


Circulus Vitiosus

by Ubernuub242



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Lololol I got no idea how this works I'll just add tags later when they become relevant, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:00:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ubernuub242/pseuds/Ubernuub242
Summary: When a certain gentlemanly scientist meddles in magic, an ancient power is unleashed upon the Constant that threatens to end the survivors once and for all. With the Queen's patience wearing thin, a doppleganger on the loose, and ever newer problems at hand, will Wilson be able to undo his mistake?





	1. A Brief Ursurper

"Freedom! At last..."

The king's cry of triumph faded away as he crumbled to dust and was swept away by an invisible wind. The man standing in front of the lit throne gaped at the now empty space of marble in front of him. One could only guess what thoughts raced through his mind during those short precious moments before he was enclosed by shadows and woven anew as a prisoner of the throne.

I was too preoccupied to speculate further. The curses that the old king had put in place to suppress me were undone and I was free at last to enter the area he had sectioned off for himself. At the same time, however, Their grip on me grew stronger. I could feel it, a cold hunger clawing and scraping continuously at my mind.

I was in the throne room, surrounded by the suffocating shadows. Fear, fluttery and sickening, coursed through my being. I frantically looked around for escape. It had been so long but with Maxwell gone, nothing could hold me back. I rushed towards the throne, desperate to be separated from the constant darkness. Light! Oh how I missed it! I couldn't suppress my grin as I was enveloped in the cold glare of the flames. They were enraged by my actions, of course, furiously scratching at the tiny glowing shelter, but as I glanced warily around it seemed for once... I was out of reach.

A weariness settled over me. I could feel the ease on my mind, without that pounding pressure behind my eyes. Finally! I finally escaped that  endless battle. A thrill of joy rushed through me! I was safe! I was in the light, finally! I didn't care how long it would last, all I knew was I was free! I was finally separate from Them! I was... I was...

"H-hello there." A tiny voice squeaked.

I was not by myself.

I paused in my celebration, then realization struck. Someone- He could see me! Exhilaration buzzed around me. He could see me! I wasn't alone! My grin stretched wider, I felt an urge to jump for joy! My happiness dampened only slightly as I realized the situation of my new acquaintance.

There he was, struggling uselessly against his bonds like a mouse caught in a trap. Hysteria and shock left him panting and wide eyed, a frantic nervousness tinging his features. He stared at me as if with a silent plead. What for? I couldn't think on it at the moment. Even with him in a panicked state, I could not hide the joy I felt. I darted towards him, wanting to greet him properly. He could see me! I stared into his face, pure joy filling me as I watched him crack a weak wobbly grin in answer. He could see me!

"Hello there!" I echoed back, ecstatic to hear the sound of my own voice. I could speak and he could hear me! I reached out a hand in a practice I thought I'd long forgotten... only to realize he couldn't take it. 

"Bit, uh," He laughed wheezily "Bit tied up here." Oops. I glanced down at his restraints. The throne had fused shadows around him. Easy enough to remove. Without thinking, I tapped the dark nexus to remove the physical restraints. Oh, how could I have forgotten! Touching the shadows was all They needed to get back in! If only I hadn't-!

Darkness

Shadows swamped my vision. I could sense the hunger, the frustration, the unending anger all around me! And then I could feel it. They smothered me, urging me to go back and be at peace as nothing more than a hushed echo in the midst of the maelstrom... My panic ebbed away in the fury of their intent. I could barely struggle as I slipped back into the dark recesses of my subconcious...

A scream. Flashes of light blinded me. I was rushed back to the forefront of my mind. As I painfully regained my senses I realized where my awakening had originated.

In Their- my- one arm the new ruler- my new acquaintance!

He thrashed, arching his back and wriggling like a worm, shouting in agony as surges of unfocused power flashed through the air. What was I- what were They doing!?

Just as I was finally able to process the horrific situation, I could feel Them pressing at me once more, greedy tendrils dragging me back into the depths. But- no! No I couldn’t go back into the darkness again! I wouldn’t leave him to their peril! As I thought this, a sudden rush of energy swamped me. Memories, but not my own, flitting back to the throne and the strength it endowed upon its ruler. Of course! That’s what I- They were trying to get! With my realization I had unknowingly weakened my hold, however, and once more I was flooded with Their intentions, drowned out by Their desperate longing for power...

When I awoke next, the man was gone.

I was alone.  
-

"Wilson! Watch out!"

The scientist lept at the warning, clutching his spear as the giant red monster turned away from the piggy-tailed arsonist and bounded towards him. The chains surrounding the torso of the beast had broken away to reveal a bright yellow maw that slobbered and drooled disgustingly, eager for its next meal that, Wilson realized as he stood paralyzed, would soon be him.

Or rather it would have been had a red haired viking not shoved him out of the way. Wilson stumbled back onto the cold ground, watching numbly as the woman stood above him, spear raised as she stared into the approaching jaws. He noticed too late the whispy tendrils biting at her torn limbs, and with a horrible CRUNCH, the spear clattered to the floor. the monstrosity stood in place where wigfrid had been just moments ago, the actress being torn away into gossamer threads which slowly gathered back together to form a glaring apparition.

"Get her a heart!" Wilson shouted to Wes, who stood a bit aways, already binding glands together. Wilson scrambled to his feet, clutching his flimsy spear. The monster was taking its time relishing the small victory and leaned back as if to mockingly chuckle. Gritting his teeth, Wilson struck it with all his might, hitting it squarely in the side. The monster slowly turned towards him, taking small steps on its gigantic feet. Wilson immediately regreted his actions as it roared in his face and, before he knew it, the beast lunged at him.

-

Wilson wasn't really a fan of being dead. Or whatever kind of 'being' this was. He had some theories about the process from what his friends had told him about it and he... he... er...

with an irritated sigh that was warped into a rather cheesy "ooOOooO" he realized he'd forgotten what he was thinking about, but when you're being dissassembled into whisps then slowly woven back together you tend to have a bit of a foggy mind anyways. As he became fully formed he was able to feel the world swaying around him, invisible lines bending his surroundings like when heat waves cause the distortion of... of...

Frustrated, he lost his thoughts as the monotone shades willed him to lose sense in the swirl. He could barely make out bends in the flashing lights, indents that implied trees, birds, friends. With a sharp realization Wilson stared worrily into the fray, trying to make sense of the rapidly moving figures. A giant bulbous thing- the monster! It was leaping towards a tall figure...

Dread filled Wilson as he recognized the shape of Wes, one of the only two people still alive. Wilson attempted to move, motion sickness taking over him as the world swayed. Groggy and lopsided, he rushed towards the beast, desperately trying to stop it before it got to his friend. All in vain, it seemed, as it lurched over Wes. Wilson couldn't protect him! He could feel a horrible pit in his stomach- he couldn't watch!

Suddenly, Wes threw a small pulsing item to Willow and began sprinting, the beast hot on his heels. A thrill of hope rang through Wilson. Wes wasn't dead yet! The varying shades of grey pulsed and twisted sickeningly as Wes wove between the boulders, the monster leaping at him, just barely missing each time. Whether it was from the constant motion around him or the anxiety for his friends, Wilson felt he might've thrown up. He couldn't take this, with every bound the monster gained on Wes. It was only a matter of time until-

Bright lights flashed, blinding Wilson. A cry of triumph rang through the air as the valkyrie rose once more. Wilson turned to see his other two friends race to the fight. Wes, seeing he didn't need to stall longer, fell flat on his back. The beast was mid jump, flying in an arch over the mime and landing far from him. The monster turned and roared as Willow and Wigfrid launched themselves at it. 

Wilson smiled as well he could without a mouth as Wes got up and raced towards him. Relief filled Wilson upon seeing his friend was unharmed. 

Everything was going to be okay.


	2. Self-Deception

The fire crackled merrily as the crew gathered around the blaze. The temporary camp had been set up near the mysterious sack in the meteor fields, obviously not intended to last long and far far away from the main encampment. The four people sat around the firepit, each with a wrapped bundle that had fallen from the defeated foe.

Wilson was seated on a log that served as a crude sort of bench. He carefully undid the ropes binding the wax papers, crossing his fingers for something new or maybe science-y! He was disappointed to discover it was filled with sooty black shapes. He furrowed his brow as he picked at the parcel of charcoal.

A tiny voice in the back of his head was yelling at him- Something was different. Something was wrong. He couldn't quite think what as his recent revival had made his mind foggy, as if he woke in the middle of the night, a thing he'd often done when he had still lived alone.

"Hey, you gonna use that?"

"hm?" He was jerked from his thoughts as Willow's eager ash-covered face suddenly filled his view

"The charcoal." The small stout woman pointed down at the bundle laying in his lap.

"Oh, of course." He spluttered before finally processing what she'd said, "Er, no I mean. You can have it." He lifted up the bundle to the arsonist, who quickly gathered it up then rushed back to other side of the fire where Wigfrid was sitting no doubt.

Those two were close, often joining eachother on daring escapades that Wigfrid loved to reproduce during the long winter nights around the campfire. Oftentimes Willow would watch in just as much amazement as the rest of the camp, hunched with a wide grin on her face, sometimes even joining the show as whatever new beast they had triumphed over.

The vikings theatrics were one of the precious few things Wilson knew of that could tear the arsonists gaze from her fire. It was almost as if... well, he'd hate to assume anything. Wilson was a gentleman and to suggest... he shook his head, furrowing his brow. He didn't want to start any rumors and he certainly didn't want to ask the two directly. No, the relationships between others wasn't his business, nor was it his right to pass judgement. Who was he to say anything on romance anyways? He never really experienced it himself. Maybe it was just the burden of being a man of science...

His frown deepened and he decided to end that train of thought. Idly he prodded the fire with his spear, focusing on the crackling in an attempt to distract himself.

A poke in his side revealed Wes had sat down near Wilson, resting on the far edge of the log. The scientist raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what the intrusion was for. Presumably Willow had already taken whatever charcoal the performer had uncovered. The mime looked Wilson in the eyes as if studying him. Wilson squinted back in an effort to understand before realizing his face had retained the harsh gaze he'd made while reminiscing.

"Sorry, sorry," Wilson rubbed his face with both his hands in an attempt to somehow remove the frustration that was etched into it mere moments ago, "I'm fine, really, I was simply-"

Wes stopped him, grabbing both of the scientists hands with a soft grip and pulling them away from the scientist. Wes made a sad pouting face complete with puppy dog eyes and quivering lips. Immediately knowing what he suspected, Wilson bit his lip.

"No, I'm not sad, don't worry about me." He said in a not totally convincing voice. Wes raised an eyebrow but slowly lowered Wilsons arms back into his lap. "Thanks."

Wilson wasn't sure what to do, so he turned to stare at the fire. He couldn't help but focus on that nagging feeling that something had happened since he had come back to life. Maybe it was just because it was the first time he'd died since waking up on this island. Nothing bothered him like this before though! It just made no sense to him! The scientist wondered if he should mention any of it to Wes, who had settled down closer to him on the log. Just as Wilson opened his mouth, though, he was startled by a loud "PFWOOO" noise. Wilson jumped and reflexively reached for his spear before realizing the sound was Wes blowing up a large blue balloon. 

"Wes! Give a bit of a warning first, okay?" Wilson squeaked as he tried to bring himself down from the adrenaline spike. Where had Wes even gotten blue balloons from? Blue mosquitos?

Wes said something in sign language with a look of concern before patting the gentleman's back. He held up the fully inflated balloon, waggled his eyebrows at Wilson, then turned away. Wilson could hear the (presumably?) rubber protest as it was twisted and tied by the mime's skilled hands. He shoved away the unknowable feeling in favor of curiousity for what his friend was shaping. Blue was a good color- maybe a mushroom? or a fish? Wilson would rather eat a fish.

Wes turned around and presented the blue beefalo balloon to Wilson with a flourish. The scientist couldn't help but grin at the balloon. It was kinda cute and not too anatomically incorrect. It even had little horns that bounced as it drifted in the air! Hang on... hadn't Wes blown that up with his breath?

"How did you make this float?" Wilson puzzled, his curiousity sparked. Wes winked and put a finger to his lips, a knowing smile on his face. "No really, how did you make this float?" Wilson's grin stayed on his face even as he continued to prod Wes for answers.

"Do you have a hidden helium tank?"

Wes shook his head,

"Did you make a deal with Maxwell?"

Wes put a hand to his chest and gasped in mock appall,

"Does the rubber have a chemical in it that reacts to your breath?"

Wes smirked and waggled a finger in reply, 

"Well then maybe they float because you just have a ton of already blown up balloons you've hidden? What about a secret tiny portal back home that only lets helium through into balloons?"

As each each theory became more and more outlandish, Wes matched it in equally ridiculous and dramatic reactions, from blowing raspberries and gagging to making silly faces while doing handstands and cartwheels. Wilson even stood up on the log at some point to continue ranting, complete with his own dramatic poses as he continued to try to persuade Wes to reveal his mime secrets. Wigfrid, upon noticing the comotion on the other side of the fire, joined in as well, and with her came Willow.

"It must be wires!"

"A gift fröm the göds!"

"Clown satan?"

The game only reached a halt when Wilson accidentally fell forwards from the log, hitting his head on the rocks of the firepit.

"Ohhh shit!" Willow exclaimed as Wigfrid hastily dragged the scientist from the side of the fire. Wes rushed from where he had been previously performing a sassy bike ride. Wigfrid laid the scientist facedown in the snowy grass, but rethought it and flipped him over.

A moment passed as the group silently stared down at the scientist.

Wilson's eyes fluttered and then he squinted at the crowd,

"...Did I ruin my hair?" he croaked.

Willow snorted in laughter and leaned on Wigfrid, who steadied her by her shoulders.

"Löge has yet tö claim it!" Wigfrid replied in her bellowing voice, a grin spread wide on her freckled face.

"Oh thank goodness..." Wilson smiled as he looked up into Wes' eyes. His friend smiled back at him but, as the mime turned away, Wes' face melted into a frown.

A troublesome feeling stirred within Wilson and he thought to call out to Wes, but, well, he didn't really want to? Er.... that's not quite right, he just.... didn't want to dampen the mood any, that's all. Willow and Wigfrid were still laughing and joking around merrily and they were all having such a good time! Wes was probably fine and Wilson was just worrying over nothing

Even then, as Wilson sat up, that 'nothing' seemed to weigh down on him. Suddenly, Willow doubled over onto the grass next to him.

"Alas! My fellöw warriör has fallen!" Wigfrid exclaimed in mock shock as she lifted the giggling Willow into a bridal carry. "She must have a pröper funeral! This fire shöuld dö..." She frowned comically as she carried the grinning arsonist to the flames.

"Oh nooo! Welp, here I go! Whee!" Willow shouted gleefully as she was lowered into the fire, prompting Wigfrid to crack a smile, breaking her mournful appearance.

Wilson looked away from them, his attention turning to Wes. He was seated on the bench, staring into the empty wastes of the meteor fields. Next to him, the beefalo balloon bobbed drearily.

Wilson had no idea what was going on with Wes. Should he go see what was wrong? It might be none of his business. Maybe Wes was just tired? That must be it. Yeah, Wilson was sure. He didn't see any reason for anything to be wrong. He certainly hoped nothing was wrong and anyways, everyone else was perfectly fine so nothing must be wrong. Right? Right.

With his feelings quelled, Wilson walked to the pile of stuff they group had dropped to make room for spears and armor. From the goods he managed to dig out four bedrolls.

"Hey guys, it's getting dark," he called out to the other survivors, "We should all probably-" he held up the straw mats- "Hit the hay!"

With a not unfriendly eyeroll, Willow shook the embers from her skirt and stepped out from the fire. She grabbed two bedrolls from Wilson and strolled back to Wigfrid, who had already set about clearing a patch of ground of snow.

Wilson tucked one bedroll under his arm and held the other out to Wes. The performer perked up from the log bench where he sat and hastily walked over to grab the mat.

"Er... Wes," the mime's head snapped up as Wilson spoke, "Is..." Wilson hesitated a moment before continuing, "Is everything okay?"

Wes nodded and gave a quick smile but turned quickly around to march towards a semi-clear patch of dirt and lay down his mat.

Well that had done little to reassure Wilson but at the very least Wes seemed alright enough. Wilson walked to the fire's side and used his foot to sweep away some of the half-melted snow. He placed his mat down and tried to casually fall onto it.

"Ow."

His 'casual fall' resulted in his entire right side being pained. If he were at home, he could've expected some minor bruising, but in the Constant all he had to look forwards to was a slight bit more fuzziness to his silhouette.

Wilson turned over to his other side to see Wes a bit aways, silently (of course) making his own sleeping place. He couldn't help but notice Wes looked upset again, his painted face marred by an unusual frown.

Suddenly they made eye contact and Wilson quickly shut his eyes, pretending he hadn't been spying on his friend. Pursing his lips, Wilson decided that Wes was fine, and focused on all his remembered knowledge of internal bleeding as he slowly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaay second chapter! Still kind of before the main plot happens but next chapter that should change.  
> P.S. I hope I can upload regularly maybe every week or so but, y'know, no promises or nuthin' ^_^"


	3. Acquainted

Arms tucked behind his head, Wilson stared up at the sky. Butterflies, flapping too slowly to logically be airborn, fluttered above his head. They were shadowy silhouettes against the bright sun.

Wilson was unable to indulge in the peacefulness of the moment. His face was marred by a scowl, and he knew it. As if through the illustrations of a book, he watched himself from across the meadow. He could see himself get up, brush himself off, then approach where he was viewing from. 

It was all so casual, almost suspiciously so, but for the life of him he didn't know why. Everything looked a bit blurry, a bit too bright, a bit too hot and then in brief moments, all too cold.

He stood in front of his view, and a hand extended. He saw himself reach out and shake it. In his palm, something was opened, or it maybe was already open, it bled out.

As he stared into himself, the air tensed, the butterflies stuck quivering in mid-air. The flowers stopped shifting in the false wind. 

A whisper, something was said into his own ear. It wasn't him speaking, but something else. Someone else.

What did they say?

The sounds of hounds drowned his thoughts out.

\---

Wilson awoke with a jolt, one arm already propping himself up. Cold sweat dripped down his face as he found himself facing the still-burning fire. His heart pounded in his chest as he blearily processed his situation.

It was winter... he was on a bedroll... And the hounds...

He listened closely for the sounds of the wild dogs. All he could hear was the crackling of the fire and some steady high-pitched rumbling. After a short second speculating that the latter might have been some kind of miniature sort of hound wave, he finally recognized it to be Willow's snoring.

He turned over off his stomach and sat up on his now rather scraggly straw roll. His muscles were still tensed. That feeling in his chest loomed yet again... What was it? 

Wilson rubbed his eyes, giving up on sleeping. His nerves were already on edge and someone had to organize the rest of the stuff anyways.

He stood up, glancing at the other survivors. Across the camp, Willow was full on draped over Wigfrid, bernie tucked at her side. Wilson mentally shrugged, scientifically it made sense that if humans were sleeping as close as Willow and Wigfrid did they would be subconciously attracted to eachothers body heat. He turned to his side, seeing if Wes was also still dozing.

The fire cast hazy shadows over an empty bedroll.

Wilson's heart lept into his throat. He patted the roll as if to make sure that the mime was well and truly not there, as if he believed it might have been one of his usual light-hearted tricks. His hand only met dry grass.

He was hunched there, his mind racing with panicked thoughts, staring at the ground for what seemed an eternity until he noticed the faint tracks in the melting snow. 

It only took a few seconds before his torch was lit and he was rushing into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so! I realized I had stopped writing for so long because pressuring myself to write long chapters just ended up with me... writing nothing. SO! gonna write shorter chapters now! BUT!!! Im gonna ACTUALLY BE UPLOADING STUFF NOW AHAHA  
> Also last chapter I LIED HAHA I TOTALLY LIED ONE HUNDRED PERCENT! THIS STORY IS GOING AT A CRAWL!!! ITS OKAY THOUGHT BECAUSE THE POINT IS ITS GOING AJBRAJHFAFSJ  
> ALSO MY LIFE HAS BEEN ABSORBED IN FNAF VR FOR A WHILE HAHAHA


End file.
